


cut through the clouds

by Griffindork



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: F/F, Follow on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23142955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Griffindork/pseuds/Griffindork
Summary: This fear is insidious.
Relationships: Charity Dingle/Vanessa Woodfield
Comments: 4
Kudos: 80





	cut through the clouds

**Author's Note:**

> A little follow on from the 11th March episode.

“Right lady,” Chas says, sidling up to Charity, with that no nonsense tone of voice she usually reserves for when Aaron is being petulant. “How’re you?”

Charity glances over her shoulder, at Chas’ folded arms and soft eyes. She’s not looking at Charity, she’s watching Vanessa wipe away tears with Rhona on the couch, but Charity can feel all of her attention on her, waiting. It prickles like she’s stepped in nettles, sting growing with every second.

“Me?” She asks with forced levity, she laughs flatly when she shrugs. “I’m not the one with cancer.”

“No.” Chas agrees patiently, eyes finally burning into the back of Charity’s head. “But you are going through this too.”

The kettle boils, blue light switching off, and Charity thinks about fear clouding blue eyes. She thought she’d seen Vanessa scared, when ‘find Johnny’ was the only noise she could muster. But she realises now that where that was palpable, violent fear, this is insidious. It snakes its way around them, squeezing and silent and suffocating. It drips into every crevice like venom and Charity can’t find the antidote, the poison’s already set in anyway.

“You’re allowed to be scared.” Chas whispers because even she knows that Vanessa doesn’t need Charity’s feelings right now.

Charity nods in silent agreement. She is scared. She’s so scared it feels like she can’t breathe sometimes. The tears that build behind her eyes each night, flooding out in the alone moments she steals when she takes too long in the bathroom or when she hides behind the house after promising to nip to the shop, just trying to breathe.

Last night she’d only allowed herself two minutes to let it all go. Two minutes for it to burst before she put the lid back on. Then she went upstairs, helped to steady Vanessa as she climbed into the bath.

Head tipped back in the water, eyes closed, Vanessa had relaxed for the first time in- too long Charity had realised. So she’d sank down to the floor, leant forward against the edge of the bathtub to rest her chin on her arms, and watched. She’d watched as her fingers danced along the surface of the water, until Vanessa’s had found them and held on tight, and then she’d watched with a smile.

“Hey.” Chas says softly. “You’ve spilt water everywhere. I’ve got it, shift out me way.”

Charity turns to the side in silence and lets Chas make the teas, eyes reaching skyward for some kind of relief and arms folding to keep it all in. Last night she’d splashed Vanessa, laughed until it had given her cramp and then begged for Vanessa to stop laughing because she couldn’t move. It had felt like some kind of reset, telling the kids, like one weight had been lifted. That’s what had motivated today really, the way Vanessa’s jaw was clenched just a bit less. It’d been Vanessa who mentioned it, when she was curled into Charity’s side in bed and the house was silent. She’d whispered it into the air, followed by a quiet admission that ‘I don’t have the energy to tell everyone separately’.

‘So we call them all together.’ Charity has said simply, fingers massaging along Vanessa’s scalp gently. ‘Tell our Chas, it’ll soon get ‘round. Foghorn of Yorkshire, that one.’

“Can you send a round robin?” Charity asks now as the echoes of Vanessa’s laughter rings in her ears. “I don’t think she can-”

“’Course.” Chas interrupts quickly, hand waving like it’s already done. “Help me carry these.”

She turns with two cups in her hands, nodding back towards Vanessa and Rhona sat clasping hands on the sofa and Paddy hovering awkwardly around them like he doesn’t quite know what to do for the best.

“Which one’s Vanessa’s?”

“That one.” Chas points towards one left on the side and Charity tuts to herself.

She grabs the milk and pours some more in quickly.

“Good job she’s got you, eh?” Chas nudges her elbow, tea dangerously sloshing in the cups.

“Yeah.” Charity rolls her eyes disbelievingly, in the grand scheme of things a cup of tea feels like a mole hill that Chas is making into a mountain. “I’m sure she’d say that too.”

"She is you know.” Chas’ voice has taken on that soft edge again, her smile gentle as she looks at Charity knowingly. “I meant everything I said the other day.”

Charity feels that familiar burn behind her eyes and she has to swallow thickly past the way her throat is tightening dangerously. She nods, hoping that her agreement will make Chas stop, before Charity can’t.

“She’s a right little fighter, our Vanessa.” There’s a part of her voice that makes Charity think she’s comforting herself as much as she is Charity. “She’ll be fine.”

“Yeah. She will.” Charity says definitely, conviction lacing her words with strength.

Chas pulls her into a hug, squeezes her tight for the first time in months. It takes Charity a moment to register it, a moment for her to tense and release and grip back. She squeezes once, arms around Chas’ back and then pulls away quickly when she feels that conviction begin to seep away again.

“She’ll be fine.” Chas repeats. She doesn’t sound as sure as Charity is.

Because Charity is sure. She is sure that Vanessa will be fine. She has to be. Vanessa has to be. She has a stubborn streak a mile wide and a righteous one to match. She will be fine through sheer force of will, Charity decides. Grabbing two cups and nudging Chas to do the same she turns to go back to the ruckus, if that’s what she can call hushed conversations and sad eyes.

They turn back just as Paddy squeaks and bumps into the table, bumbling something below his breath, unsure of what to do, there’s a look of panic on his face that’s matched by Rhona. Rhona’s hands flutter about in front of Vanessa, like she wants to comfort but doesn’t know how to and fear stops her from making contact. Charity pushes past Paddy as quickly as she can, she all but drops the tea on the coffee table and then she’s bobbed down at Vanessa’s feet.

A hand on her knee, she waits for Vanessa to meet her eyes. When she does she only shakes her head at Charity’s silent question and then the tension is leaving her body, the grips of the pain slipping away as quick as it had come. She tries to smile comfortingly at Rhona, but the pallid complexion of her face and the tension that lingers behind her eyes don’t put Rhona at ease.

Charity looks toward the door that she’d shut tightly behind them earlier - no interruptions, no starting again, only one mustering of courage. Vanessa is already shaking her head before Charity’s eyes meet hers again. So she nods, picks up the teas again, and hands Vanessa hers, milky monstrosity that it is.

“Is this why you didn’t want a party?’” Rhona asks hesitantly. Vanessa throws her a rueful look and Charity sees Chas elbow Paddy sharply in the ribs when his mouth opens as though to offer comment. 

Charity settles herself on the arm of the sofa beside Vanessa, feels a hand wrap around her ankle and drops her own arm around Vanessa’s shoulders, thumb rubbing soothing circles.

“Where’s my tea?” Paddy asks indignantly when Chas hands Rhona hers.

Charity doesn't listen for the answer as she lets the noise wash over her. Vanessa's hand feels warm on her skin and her weight leans into her thigh as Rhona chatters nonsense. She catches the wink Chas' aims in her direction and nods to herself.

She’s doing okay.


End file.
